Through the Looking Glass
by Ryoko Xero
Summary: Part 6! (Alice-Jill (Alice-Rain) Painful desicions and Alice notices the change in Jill.
1. I, Wong

I, Wong

Disclaimer: I don't own them, so please don't sue me.

_Rain smiled down at her lover lazily, enjoying the quiet intimacy of the moment. _Heh, intimacy. Bet most people don't think I even know what the word means, _she mused, gently running her finger tips over the slumbering woman's bare, velvety skinned back. She didn't particularly care what others thought about her, quite accustomed to being judged at first sight. Still, it _did_ bother her lover…_

The woman in question stirred, stretching like a large cat, before opening her eyes to gaze adoringly at the young Hispanic. "Good morning." she murmured, leaning forward and capturing the sleep-ruffled woman's lips in a tender kiss.

"Good morning darling." the other woman replied, smiling sweetly, and lightly caressing her cheek.

Rain made a face, playfully glaring at her girlfriend. "You know I hate it when you call me that." she complained lightheartedly, gently nudging the pale skinned woman's forehead with her own.

"Hmmm… yes, I know that's what you say, but-" her lover paused, initiating a kiss of her own. "I know that deep down, you love it," she concluded, pecking the glowering woman on the nose.

"Do not." the dark haired woman mumbled, pouting as she watched the blonde slide out of bed.

"Yes you do, otherwise you wouldn't have that silly smile on your face." her lover replied without turning around, heading to the bathroom. The lounging woman quickly wiped the lovesick expression from her face.

"What is she, psychic?" she muttered under her breath, sitting up and swinging her legs to the floor.

"No love, I just know you." the other woman called from the bathroom, stifling a laugh when her partner cursed, grumbling about being transparent.

Rain entered the bathroom, walking up behind her lover, who was washing her hands and face. She wrapped her arms around the slimmer woman's waist, and rested her chin on a smooth shoulder. "I love you Rain," the blonde whispered, leaning back into the embrace. Looking into the mirror, the tan woman graced her lover with a rare smile.

"I love you, Ada Wong."

She jerked to awareness, clutching the shotgun close to her chest. Biting back a sob, she suddenly felt sick. "Oh God, Rain…" she whimpered, one shaky hand coming to cover her mouth.

It had been almost 36 hours since she had broken out of the hospital, and in that time she had not seem a soul, living or dead. She had traveled until it began to get dark, and which point she had ducked into a woman's clothing store, and barricaded herself in. She had been there for six hours, and estimated that she had another 6 before the sun came up. She refused to travel in the dark, urgent instincts to leave the City or no. The stillness gave her time to think, and to remember…

The first memories that came back to her were more recent; bits and pieces of her faux marriage with Spence, the complete memories of her deal with Lisa, her actual mission briefing concerning the Mansion.

Then came things like, her favorite color--red, the name of her dog when she was seven--Kentia, the location of her secret stash of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies--in her sock drawer, all the way to the right.

She had been concentrating on trying to remember her name, first or last. After only a few moments, her thoughts had turned to Rain, the young, brash Hispanic Soldier, who had the saddest eyes she had even seen on a woman. She did not question the line of thinking, knowing her mind would take her to where she needed to go in it's own time. She had instead followed the thought track, closing her eyes and wading into the memories.

The dark haired woman had intrigued her from the moment she had taken off her mask, revealing a brooding, irritated, and ruggedly beautiful face. She noticed now that, in retrospect, the moment that those coffee colored eyes had fallen on her, they had lit up like Roman Candles. But, when her condition-- amnesia due to exposure to the nerve gas-- had been revealed, those same eyes had dampened, darkening to a black, full of unspoken rage.

Oh God, Rain…

The look the other woman had given her on the train, after she had injected her with the anti-virus; she understood it now. A mixture of longing, and almost unbearable pain had flashed over her sweat soaked face; at the time, she had thought that it was the clash between the T-Virus and the antidote, but now, she knew better. She cursed herself, remembering the look of abject misery mixed with hope when she, relieved that her companion had not been dead, had said she would kiss her.

Backing up until her back and pressed against the wall, and sliding down its cool surface, Ada Wong felt the tears break free. "At least now I know my name," she whispered, before crumbling and sobbing her broken heart into her cold, numb hands.

AN: _What do you think?? I've got a whole bunch of ideas for Ada (damnit, that chick was Ada Wong, I don't care what anyone says; she had the scar, and she had the matrix wanna be powers, and she knew frellin' everythin' about Umbrella. Hence Ada). This little short could have brothers and sisters very soon, but you have to tell me what you think.___


	2. Ghost In You

Ghost In You

**_Disclaimer:_**_ I don't own them, so, don't sue._

My eyes are drawn in your direction, and I catch myself every time I look at you, always a second ahead of your awareness; I don't think I've met your eyes yet. You move so smoothly, with a clean, catlike grace that few have… I've only know one other to. But, that doesn't matter now; that's in a past I can't really afford to relive.

"I have to talk to you." You say, and, an hour ago it would have been a demand. But now, after seeing what I can truly be capable of, it's a rough request, as if your voice refuses to allow you to ask and not take. "Now; alone." You add, almost against your will. I bite back a smirk at your smoky insolence, knowing you are trying so hard to rein in the Alpha Bitch; we both know that there can be only one, and we both know that you can't beat me. As I nod and follow you a short distance away from the others, I can't help but think that maybe you would die trying anyway.

"What can I do for you?" I ask, smiling indulgently, loving the spark of fire that practically leaps from your eyes.

"Listen," you begin, scowling a bit, though I can tell you are holding back; perhaps you don't want me to have the satisfaction that we both know I would get from riling you.

"You don't have to like me, that doesn't matter. But if any of us are going to survive this we have to learn how to work together, instead of constantly one upping each other." I snort as you say this, and you sigh, annoyed, but reluctantly correct yourself. "Instead of me trying to be the hero and _you_ constantly one upping me." I give you a softer smile, and see you relax a bit. I admire that you are trying to be an adult about this, but know that in the end we will revert back to our pissing contest, no matter how noble your intentions.

"Jill," I say softly, almost whispering a different name. You nod, blinking at the interruption, but oh-so willing to listen. I lean in close, deep into your personal space, but you stand your ground, nostrils flaring dangerously. God, how like her you are, down to your smell. I breathe deeply through my mouth, tasting the similarities and the differences, rolling them around like a fine wine. Your scent seems to be more sweet then hers was, like brown sugar to her cinnamon, and it's all I can do to keep my eyes from fluttering in pleasure.

"Y-yes?" you all but whimper, and I focus again. You are not her, and I am not who I used to be besides.

"I'll try to suppress my need to be on top," I raise my eyebrow and you almost-blush, but refuse to acknowledge my double meaning, "if you do the same." I concede, and you release a quiet breath of relief. "But only after this."

Before you can react, my lips are on yours, and I am forcing you against a convenient wall with my body. You struggle a bit, startled, and I take advantage of your slightly parted lips to taste you more fully. Hands on either side of your head, I grind my pelvis into yours, swallowing the moan you cannot help greedily. You taste divine, like caramel and strawberries on my tongue, and I can't stop myself from pressing my length against yours.

After long moments, your hands stop pushing at me, and begin to pull me closer. As soon as they do I break the kiss, relishing the power I have over you, the power you have given me. I look down into twin pools of seething obsidian and shiver. With a growl you catch me off guard, spinning us around so that your small body now pins _me_ to the wall.

Hungrily, almost angrily, you claim my lips, nipping hard enough to sting and make me almost weak. Your tongue plunges into my mouth and I groan, content to let you continue your explorations. Your hands gently – I would say reverently, if I didn't know better – trace a path from my hips to my neck, stroking lightly there, before tangling themselves in my hair. I begin to purr into your mouth, and feel an answering rumble against my chest. So much like her, it hurts.

A sudden burst of pain explodes in my chest, from my heart, and I tear away, gasping. It takes me a second to realize that the pain is emotional, not a physical one. Memories of her invade my mind's eye, and I am left shuddering against you, holding onto you for support. "What's wrong?" you ask, voice high pitched and frightened, and I drag my eyes to yours. Smiling with a reassurance that I do not feel, I straighten and drop an almost chaste kiss on your lips.

"Just memories, nothing I can't handle." I say dismissively, and I see the hurt in your eyes. Your face closes to me with an almost audible slam, and I realize just how open you've been up till now.

I am filled with guilt, but I refuse to dwell on it. "Come on; let's get back to the others." I all but order, turning without waiting and trudging back. I can almost hear her ghost in your voice.

"Fuck you, you bitch." You growl, striding up beside me, and spinning me around by my arm. _How could you, you bitch!_ I look into your eyes, and I see her staring back at me, angry, confused, alone and hurting, like you are, and like she was, when I told her about my assignment. The same eyes, the same pain, that even I share, if in silence.

"My name is Alice," _My name is __Ada__ Wong._ "And we will do what we have to, to get out of here, despite what happened right now." _And I will do what I am told, despite how much I love you._ "You got that, Valentine?" _Do you understand Rain?_ Hard eyes of stone, both past and present bore into mine.

"Fuck you," you say tiredly, a hint of tears in your voice, and turn to rejoin the group. _Fuck you;_ she had sobbed angrily, her last words to me before she stormed away from me, seemingly out of my life.

I follow behind, confident, smirking mask already back in place, just as back then. I know what I have to do, and I will get it done, despite the pain of her ghost, and despite you.

**_A/N:_**_ This is kind of a continuation to "I, Wong", the story I wrote for the first movie. After watching RE:A, it was oh so blatantly obvious that Jill and Alice would either end up killing each other (firm believer that there can be only ONE Alpha Bitch left standing), or fucking (if not both). Maybe I'll write something later in Jill's perspective or something, I dun know…anyways, hope you enjoyed._


	3. Releasing the Demon

**Releasing the Demon**

"She's infected, on a massive scale," Alice stated calmly, as if she were talking about the weather. Jill looked, horrified, at the girl whom she felt so protective of. God, no, this could _not_ be happening.

"How do you know?" she asked voice a bit harsh. She didn't want to believe that this poor child would go through what Peyton did. No, not again; she couldn't handle it happening again, especially not to someone so young.

"Because she is to." Replied the child, very matter of fact. And Jill's world crashed down around her.

_30 minutes earlier_

Lights flashed and flickered at the corners of her vision, creeping through the grated windows and making her twitch every couple of steps. The muscles in her jaw clenched tighter and tighter with every second, and she had to force her breaths to come out even and quiet. _'Stop being so jumpy, Valentine,'_ she scolded herself, grinding her teeth to keep her other emotions at bay; getting upset would only serve in making her sloppy. After all, since exiting the car they hadn't seen any sign of actual undead, and she had made sure she killed the last one they had encountered… But again, as she quickened her decent into the bowels of the School, she couldn't help but imagine the shadows twisting and morphing, becoming _his_ face. She bit back a sob.

Peyton; God, it hurt so much. She had known it would come to that, but, deep down she hadn't wanted to believe. No, not her friend, not him. He, who had been nothing but kind and caring to her since they had first met in the Academy. He whom had covered for her when that whole mess with Redfield had gone down. The guy who had actually held her hair back as she paid homage to the porcelain God when she had over indulged the night before graduation, and had made sure she made it on time the next morning. The man whom she trusted with everything, surly he was above the horror that the Virus brought. The sight of his bullet riddled, twitching body filled her mind's eye again, and she bit back a whimper.

"Fuck," Jill Valentine whispered thickly, walking the last three yards to the dead end wall and leaning her arm and forehead on it. She was in no shape to be here alone, she could barely see through the tears that threatened to fall, and she was sure she was making too much noise with her uneven breathing. It seemed that all her police training was failing her when she needed it the most. She had to pull herself together and look for the girl. Taking a deep breath, she turned, so her back was pressed securely against the cold tiles. That's right; she had to get it together, if not for her own sake, then for that poor, helpless child.

"What are you doing?" a cool voice asked, startling her out of her thoughts. Blue-grey eyes snapped to the side, and were greeted with the sight of a very irritated Alice. "If I was a fucking zombie, you'd be dead! Why was your guard down?" the woman continued harshly, sounding almost scared. Scared, for her? Jill knew that was ridiculous.

"I-I" she stammered, voice still heavy with grief.

"You-You, what?" Alice growled, striding determinedly to her and pushing into her personal space, until they were almost touching. The ex-policewoman pressed herself into the wall, as if to escape. "That was stupid Valentine; you're the only other experienced fighter we have."

For a few moments she felt chastised, like a child caught slacking off instead of doing her chores. But then anger flared in her as she remembered what had happened earlier. She embraced the emotion, nurturing it, until it became a rage that was completely out of proportion with the situation. Anger she could deal with; anger burned away the pain. Peyton was dead, the City was in shambles, and damned if this bitch wasn't going to pay.

"Fuck you." Jill snapped, hands lashing out and shoving the taller woman away. "Fuck you!" With a speed that surprised even the part of Alice that had been Ada Wong, Jill was upon her, hands clenched into fists, pounding at her blindly. "He's dead! He's fucking dead, you stupid fucking whore!" she cried, raining blows on the stunned woman's face and chest.

With a grunt, Alice pulled back, impressed with the accuracy and strength behind the attack. She felt her heart twinge in empathy for the grieving woman. "Listen to me Valentine; we have to look for the girl. This has to wait until we are out of the City; it's not safe to do this right now." She reasoned, holding out a placating hand, and approaching the gasping police officer.

With an unintelligible cry, Jill rushed forward. Instead of dodging to the side and striking, as her instincts screamed at her to do, she let the smaller body slam into her, using the momentum to spin and trip the distraught woman. Catching her in her arms, the ex soldier held on, refusing to give when the body in her arms began to struggle.

"He's gone, he's gone for good. He was so kind, and now he's fucking gone." Came the broken whimper, and Alice could only nod. They had _all_ lost someone. Jill sagged in her arms, sobbing, and she moved them forward, propping the woman against the wall again.

She tried desperately to calm her racing heart, instincts and fear warring in her. When she had seen the sagged form of the RPD Officer leaning against the wall, her mind had flashed back to that moment on the train, when she had lost hope. White hot terror had flashed through her, and when she saw Jill still alive, she had realized something. She had to keep the other woman alive. Something inside her had decided that she cared for the feisty brunette, because of, or maybe despite her similarities to Rain, and she refused to let her die.

"I'm sorry, so sorry… I couldn't save you, I'm so sorry," Jill whispered, the words breaking Alice's heart. In that moment, she made a decision.

"Jill," Alice said softly, slipping a finger under the smaller woman's chin. When she got no answer, she gently lifted her face, so she could look into blurry eyes, turned grey with emotion. When no resistance was offered, she rubbed her thumb along the trembling jaw beneath it. "I'm sorry." And for a second time, their lips met. Much like the first time, Alice felt the other woman struggling against her, and, much like the first time, shortly, Jill Valentine was surrendering to her lips.

After a moment, they both pulled back, gasping for air. "Why?" the policewoman asked, voice small and almost frightened sounding. Alice smiled, cupping her face and resting their foreheads against one another.

"Because you need it, need the release; because maybe I am selfish and want you; and because maybe you don't deserve to suffer every second." She replied honestly.

"Because maybe you wanted me to shut the fuck up and get in line?" Jill added bitterly, still and rightfully angry; they both flinched. The taller woman nodded, knowing it was easier – so much less confusing for them both – this way.

"Yeah," she replied, schooling her voice, so it became flat, monotone. "Maybe."

"Go to hell, you-" Alice moved forward quickly, claiming the smaller woman's lips and swallowing the rest of her words. Jill kissed back, roughly, angrily, biting at lips and plunging her tongue down the other woman's throat. With a grunt, Alice crushed her soon-to-be lover into the wall, grinding into her hips unforgivingly hard and forcing a thigh between her legs. She felt the other woman shudder and press back, chuckling as hands began to claw at her back.

With a growl, Jill brought her hands around, trying to shove them into Alice's clothing. "Ah, ah, ah." she chided, capturing the questing appendages in one of her own, and bringing them to rest above their heads. "I'm in charge here, Valentine." She said, squeezing the wrists she held to underline her point. "Behave." It was a command, and they both knew it; she could almost taste the defiance rolling off of the police officer. "Try anything again, and maybe I'll decide I like to hear you scream in pain instead of pleasure." She promised, knowing she didn't mean it, but also knowing that her lover didn't recognize that. She could swear she saw the shorter woman flinch, but the anger in her eyes made it hard to tell.

Releasing her hands, Alice leaned forward, covering the smaller body with hers and trying to kiss the woman's sweet lips again. She could, she admitted to herself, become addicted quickly. Jill moved her face to the side, avoiding the kiss. She felt her heart tear at the rejection, but went with it anyway, raining down soft almost caresses along the shorter woman's jaw and down her neck, before returning upwards and taking her bottom lip between her teeth.

They both bit down at the same time, groaning at the pain that melted into a perverse sort of pleasure as Alice let one hand slip down and cup Jill through her shorts. She pulled back, licking the blood off of her lips and wincing at the sting of the sensitive broken flesh. "Like to play rough, do we?" she asked, voice husky as her arousal spiked. Jill only smiled, refusing to answer.

Growling, Alice slipped her hand into Jill's pant, past her underwear. She watched with satisfaction as the other woman's eyes rolled up and closed, purring as she idly dragged her finger through the wetness she found. "Well, well, well; I see that we do." With her free hand, she grabbed her lover's hair, forcing her head into the wall with a soft thud, and latching onto her neck.

"God yes," Jill hissed, arms coming around to wrap around Alice's back.

Alice grunted as she felt a hand slip down and in between her legs, and responded with a light pinch to slick, hyper sensitive flesh. Jill gasped, grinding into her hand. "What did I tell you?" she demanded, nipping at the pink shell of her lover's ear, and teasingly tracing her wetness, but refusing to use anything more then light pressure. Before she could reply, her mind filtered a sound beyond their frustrated whimpers and heavy breathing. "Jill, be quiet," she instructed, pulling back enough to focus, and extending her senses.

After an eternity of tense, alert moments, she let herself relax again. She sensed nothing out there. "Please," she heard Jill whisper, and turned back, surprised at the level of arousal she detected.

"Well, since you asked so nicely." She said, claiming bruised lips in a quick kiss, before moving downward, trailing nips and licks until she reached the edge of fabric. Her free hand came and, cupping a straining mound. "Not enough time," she whispered, regretfully, moving her hand away; Jill groaned in disappointment.

She sank to her knees slowly, resisting the urge to tear at the cloth before her with her teeth. The smell of Jill's pleasure teased her senses, driving her wild. With a grunt, she shoved down her shorts, snorting in frustration when they would only go down as far as the bottom of the thigh holsters. "Fuck it, no time," she muttered, burying her face into the wet warmth.

At the first touch of lips on her overheated flesh, Jill screamed, quickly slapping a hand over her mouth to silence herself. Her head snapped back, slamming into the unforgiving tile, and she saw stars. She felt fingers pressing into her, finding almost no resistance as they entered her all the way. Something warmer stroked determinedly at the bundle of nerves above her entrance, sending waves of white hot delight through her, and her hands found the back of Alice's head. Her legs began to tremble, and she could feel herself falling.

Alice was in heaven. Never had she tasted something so divine, and never had she felt as powerful as she did now, on her knees, fingers buried deep in velvety warmth. She could feel her own need throbbing at her, but she pushed it back, concentrating on the woman before her. She flicked her tongue out quickly, before dragging it downward to join her fingers, pushing it in with them briefly. She felt hands clenching her hair, pulling her closer, and she knew Jill had been on the edge too long tease her anymore.

'Her mouth, my God!' Jill thought, panting loudly, leaning her weight completely against the wall in an effort to stay upright. "Please, Alice, GOD!" she whimpered, feeling the other woman pull her fingers out. She felt herself being opened, exposed. 'Oh. My. GOD!' her mind screamed as she was speared by her lover's tongue. She felt the muscle thrust deeply into her, curling and twisting, finding every one of her inner most pleasure points. Flashes of light appeared before her eyes, and she yanked on Alice's ears, trying to fuse with her.

Alice pulled her tongue back, flattening it and firmly running it over Jill's clit. "Jesus!" she heard vaguely through the fists that covered her ears, and she smiled, sucking hard and reveling in the intense convulsions going through her partner. She knew she had her now, and with a final deep thrust, she pulled back and bit the small organ lightly. The police officer seemed to freeze, every muscle clenching tightly.

Just as she began to relax, Alice felt her tense again. A moment later, she heard gun fire, and turned to see the twitching corpse, of what must have been a teacher, slide bonelessly to the floor. She stood quickly, catching Jill as she began to fall. "Got…got your back," the trembling woman whispered, trying to get her body under control.

They stood there quietly for long moments, each trying to get herself back under control. Gently, Alice helped the smaller woman pull on her shorts and straighten out her top, running her hands softly over her curves, unable to get enough of her. With shaking hands, Jill reached into an unnoticed pocket and pulled out a crumpled pack of cigarettes, offering it to Alice first. Smiling, the ex soldier took the last remaining stick. "Last one, you sure?" she asked, putting it in her mouth. Jill only nodded, pulling out a match book. With a snap, two matches sparked to life, and she carefully lit her lover's cigarette.

"Enjoy."

"Where are the others?" Alice asked, taking a small drag and holding her breath. She let the acrid smoke sit in her lungs, burning them, supposedly causing irreparable damage. She knew better, but savored the temporary destruction.

"Shit!" Jill cursed, closing her eyes briefly. "I left them upstairs; they're searching the upper floors." Alice nodded.

"Go check on them, make sure they weren't eaten. I'll take the rest of the basement, and then meet up, all right." Jill nodded, dashing away. Before she had gotten 10 feet, she turned back.

"Thank you." And then, she was gone.

Sighing, Alice leaned against the wall, still warm from her lover's body. Sad black eyes flashed in her mind, and she fought back emotion.

"Thank me by not getting killed." She whispered, and did something she hadn't done in a very long time. She prayed.

**TBC**


	4. Heart Of Glass

**Heart of Glass**

_**Disclaimer:** They're not mine… I just found them, wandering around in towels in the rain… heh heh heh _

She sits, silent and still in the darkness of the pre-dawn kitchen. I observe her quietly from the doorway, having awoke – very much alone, but not surprised - to a cold and empty bed. She seems so small and lost when she thinks no one is looking; with her guard down, I can almost see her as human; can almost see her heart beat, bleeding, breaking. But, she's not human, no matter how much I want her to be, and that is made quite obviously clear when I see the muscles in her arms begin to ripple and squirm, as if something were under the skin, trying to get out.

Every night I go to sleep in the hopes that she will, at least for one day, be allowed the illusion she so craves; of being a normal human woman. With a partner who loves her, and a child who adores her and worships the ground she walks on. Nothing more pressing to worry about then who's turn it is to bring home the groceries. Every morning, I am so sorely disappointed with what I had thought to be a merciful god.

With a gasp, she falls to the floor, clutching her shoulder and curling into a ball. I am beside her in the second it takes her to hit the uneven tile. "What's wrong?" I ask, pulling her to me, trying to pry her hand away so I can see. I know there is nothing I can do, but I need to be there for her, if only to make myself feel useful.

"I-I'm fine," she says, cut off by another gasp. I hold her more tightly and kiss the top of her head. "Ju-just…" she trails off, hand coming to grip my forearm, holding me to her.

"Okay baby, alright; I've got you. You're going to be okay." Even as I say it, I know that it's not true. I have no idea what's happening to her, and it's more frightening then anything that's happened to us yet, even being trapped in that godforsaken city.

"Jill…Alice?" Angie's soft, unsure voice calls out from the doorway. I turn my head and give her a reassuring smile that doesn't quite reach my eyes.

"It's okay sweetie; you can go back to bed." I say softly, even as she walks closer and sits on the ground next to us. This scene is, unfortunately, not an unfamiliar one to her. She has had to grow up so fast in such a shirt time, that sometimes I think she has forgotten what it is to be a child.

Every night, I tell myself that the next day will be different. That I will figure out what is happening to Alice, that I will shield Angie from anymore pain; that I will be strong. I promise the universe my soul, in exchange for that strength. And every morning I hate myself for not being worthy enough to protect my family, for being so very weak and useless.

"Are you all right?" Angie whispers to Alice, looking at her with wide, attentive eyes, and it's all I can do not to cry. The girl – our girl – reaches out and tentatively places a hand on my lover's shoulder. Alice opens her eyes and slowly sits up, her expression strange, foreign almost. And for one second, I am afraid. A completely irrational moment of fear, fueled by an imagined scenario. Alice, her eyes black and empty, like twin voids, standing over the prone body of the child that I have come to – if secretly – consider my daughter. But, almost as soon as it appears, the image and fear are gone, and I am left feeling weak and tired. It has been a _long_ three weeks. Alice only smiles at the girl, reaching out to gently pat her on the head.

"Come on, lets go to bed," she says, shoving her pain, and fear, and all those other, less clear emotions back in. I hate that she can't share it with me, but, at the same time, I am also grateful. I don't know how much more I can take. She stands, taking Angie into her arms and reaching down for my hand.

Together, we walk to the bedroom that we all share, and she arranges it so that we lie on either side of the bed, with the already slumbering child between us. "Goodnight." She whispers, leaning over and kissing me gently. I feel my chest tighten at the haunted, resigned look into her eyes.

"Goodnight Alice."

As she drifts off to sleep, I hear her whisper back to me, as does she every night, when she is not quite aware of herself. "Goodnight Rain…I love you…" And, just like every night, my heart shatters.

**Tbc**

_**AN:** I am working on this, really, this and "To Sleep…" are the only two I've got going right now, so, I will be producing more. I have been working VERY hard lately, so I have been just exhausted, but, I AM working, so, fear not! This bit was kinda OOC, but, not without reason… I'll be doing a bit of flash backing (is that a word?) in the next bit, and we'll see how the weeks have worn on our poor Police Girl. Totally un-beta'd, so, sorry for all the mistakes…_


	5. Dreaming is Free

**Dreaming is Free**

_**Disclaimer:** Not mine, though, maybe if I did a little dance…_

**_Jill: five weeks ago_**

_The brightness, the painful silence, the smell of sweet burning – it's the same; it's always the same. The quiet is forced and deafening onto itself; numbing. It surrounds me, the emptiness of it slowly crushing me, making it hard to breathe. But, then feeling returns, and with it, I realize that the silence isn't suffocating me, the searing hot piece of metal lying across my chest is-_

I jerk awake, a scream dying out suddenly as my jaw clenches tightly; it's not the first time since the incident that I have woken from this dream, and I know it won't be the last. I feel myself begin to shiver uncontrollably, and squeeze my eyes shut against the tears, cursing inwardly. I have to be strong, I can't afford to break – God, I want to break. _I should be dead,_ my mind whispers cruelly.

My mind turns back to the dream, and I begin to hyperventilate. I see the broken beam hurling towards Angie, and I am totally helpless, wanting to protect her but knowing that I am just not fast enough. Then, _she_ darts forward, taking the hit in the chest, the hollow 'thunk' sound of it making me ill even now, and I clamp a hand over my mouth, trying not to be sick again… it never helps, but I try anyway. _I should be dead._

I am in the bathroom within four seconds, not even bothering to turn on the light as I lunge for the toilet. As I revisit the previous evening's meager meal of fast food burgers and fries, it occurs to me that I shouldn't even be well enough yet to breathe on my own, let alone lunge for anything. That thought only makes me more ill, my face so far in the toilet that I can almost taste the water. _I should be dead…_

When I'm done, I strip off the sweat-soaked t-shirt that clings to my strangely compliant limbs and climb into the shower, turning the water as hot as it will go. Within seconds my body is a flush pink; everything except for that horrible scar… _Oh God, I should be dead._

In less then a week, my body has managed to heal the equivalent of a year. The terrible, gaping, weeping wound on my chest closed before my very eyes, as fire raced through me. I hesitate even now to contemplate why; the truth is too painful and frightening. Carlos only says that it must have been superficial; but he can't look me in the eyes when he does, and I know he is lying anyway. They did something to me – _She_ did something to me. I am changing, and it scares me. S_hould I be dead?_

Despite my new healing abilities, there is a scar. It's large, about the size of a man's hand, and sits across the left side of my chest; it almost appears like someone ripped out my heart. It looks thick and rises up from the rest of my skin, like a child took a handful of flesh colored bubblegum and smeared it on my body. The first time I saw it, I almost cried. _I should be dead._

I am red now; everything but the scar, which is an almost angry white; I begin to scrub. I feel like I will never be clean again, never be me. I feel cheap, used, like a whore. Only, I don't remember anything that should make me feel this way. My mind flashes back, to lips and tongues and blood, pleasure and pain, and I squeeze my eyes shut. _No, not now, not now…_ I don't even realize I'm sobbing.

"Ssshhh, it's alright, I've got you," a soothing, deep voice rumbles, and I feel myself being drawn into a warm embrace. Carlos holds me close as I finally allow myself to let go, to cry for _her_, for Angie… for **me**. "It'll be all right, I promise." He whispers, and I can only hold on as if my life depends on it. _I should be dead…_

When he takes me to bed, he is gentle, though his grip on my hips and the random hard thrust suggest that he prefers not to be. He lets me ride him until I can't move anymore, then makes as if to stop. I beg him not to and so he climbs on top. I feel dead inside, numb. There is an emptiness that he cannot fill, and he knows it. He becomes rougher, trying to draw reaction from me; I just stare at him, feeling cold. His hands at my shoulders draw blood and I don't flinch; he bangs his pelvis into mine and leans in to kiss me. _I should be dead!_

Suddenly I feel even more disgusting and used. I turn away, and his lips land on my neck. He kisses along my jaw line, trying again. I bite harshly at his shoulder, and pull him down. "Make it hurt, please; make the outside hurt." I whisper, the only words I've spoken to him in nearly a week. He grunts, in pain or acceptance, I don't know. But soon after, he is slamming into me so hard that I feel it in my womb, and when he cums, he grips hard enough to leave bruises and clamps down on my breast hard with his teeth. I am thrown with a scream over the edge into the single most excruciating climax I have ever experienced, and all I can think about is the look in her eyes as she gazed up at me from between my legs. I. Should. Be. Dead.

**_Alice: 3 weeks, 2 days ago_**

_She thinks I'm sleeping, but, I'm not. I feel her gaze on my exposed back, all her love and longing on my skin like velvet caresses. Then I feel her fingers run softly the length of my spine, and I know I've made her wait long enough for me to rejoin her in the waking world._

"_Mmm… Good morning," she murmurs, leaning forward and capturing my lips in a slow, gentle kiss. I feel a smile come to my face as I kiss back, luxuriating in the lush sweetness of her mouth, and the warmth of her love._

"_Good Morning Darling," I reply, reaching up and cupping her cheek. I am happy. _This is wrong,_ my mind screams, but, I ignore it. I am happy._

_My lover makes a face at me, her nose scrunching up cutely in mock indignation. "You know I hate it when you call me that." She complains halfheartedly, moving forward to rest her forehead against mine. I smile, playful._

"_Hmmm… yes, I know that's what you say, but-" I pause and kiss her quickly. "I know that deep down, you love it," I end with a peck on her nose. _Wrong, wrong, wrong,_ my mind chants._

_She sighs and gently nudges me down, so that I am lying on my back and she is hovering above me. _Wrong,_ my mind screams again, and this time I am concerned. This isn't how it's supposed to go…_

_"Ada, how long are you going to keep this up?" Rain whispers, suddenly looking sad, and so very tired. I tense up as she kisses my cheek. "You have to let it go."_

"_No!" I shout, suddenly feeling caged, trapped. "No!"_

"_Ada baby, please, you have to let it go. She needs you; _they_ need you." I freeze, unsure._

_Then _She_ walks out of our bathroom, wearing the same outfit she wore that night, rips, tears, bloodstains and all. I whimper as she draws closer, joining Rain and I on the bed, gently kissing my lover on her proud forehead, before turning to look at me. "Alice," she says, and I close my eyes, not wanting to see. _wrong, Wrong, WRONG! NO, NO, NO! _I scream inside, and begin to sob._

"_Please…no…" I whisper, but, no one seems to hear me._

_"She needs you baby, I need to you help her." Rain says, locking her legs with mine and softly pressing against me. I whimper again and try to stop my tears._

"_She's not you," I argue, shaking my head, still not opening my eyes. Rain chuckles and so does Jill._

"_She doesn't have to be baby; you love her anyway." She is so reasonable; I hate it._

_"No!" I cry, opening my eyes to glare at them both. "I love _YOU_ Rain!" I insist, angry. She smiles down at me and caresses my neck._

"_I know. But, you love her too."_

"_No-"_

"_Yes," Jill speaks up, and I turn to glare at her. "And there is nothing wrong with that."_

"_No!" I growl. _STOP!

_"Ada honey, it's time to wake up." I close my eyes again, not wanting to, understanding now._

"_I don't want to leave you again," I admit, sounding small and lost even to myself. I feel her sigh above me._

"_I know baby, but, you have to go now."_

"_No," I say again._

"_Ada honey, look at me." She says quietly, but I find myself complying as if she had barked. I turn startled eyes up to her. "Alice, wake up." Her voice is not her own, and, I find myself falling…_

My eyes jerk open and are immediately assaulted by a thick feeling; swirling and blurred images flitter past me. My skin tingles, and it almost seems like I am under water…

**_Angie: four weeks ago_**

_I am sitting in a class room, homeroom I think, quietly looking over my notes at my desk. At the front of the room, the teacher drones on about something, and two seats away Greg Larson pulls at Jenny Wilson's pigtails; it's all I can do not to yawn aloud._

_"Ms. Ashford, please come to the front of the room," the teacher – Mrs. Jacobs – snaps suddenly, and I feel guilty for being caught daydreaming. Shy to be the center of attention so suddenly, under the heavy weight of so many pairs of eyes, I awkwardly stand and make my way to the front of the room. Benny Jessup snickers under his breath and I frown._

"_I'm sorry, Mrs. Jacobs, I-" she cuts me off promptly._

"_Not a word from you, Ms. Ashford, not one word." She glares at me over the tops of her horn rim glasses, and I feel my cheeks burning. I am in for it now. "I think your classmates have something they would like to say."_

_As I turn my attention to the rest of the room, I am startled to see that they have changed. Gone are my peers, young and hyper and so full of life. In their places are the shells that they had become, after…_

_"Yooouuuu." They hiss, baring their teeth at me through rotted lips; I flinch away. "You did this to ussss!"_

"_No…" I whimper, shielding my eyes with my hands, clutching my lunchbox to my face. "No, please, I-I didn't…"_

"_YOOOOUUUUU! It's YOUR fault!" they cry, their voices merging into one, horrible sound. "You…" A cold, clammy hand touches my shoulder, and I scream._

She thinks I don't hear her, when she cries late at night; she thinks I don't know. She doesn't want to trouble me with her problems, and I wish I could tell her… Could tell her that I understand, and, that I miss _her_ too…

In that first, horrible week, there was nothing. She didn't cry, or scream, or talk much at all. But, then something changed. Carlos said he talked to her, but… that doesn't seem right… He thinks he made everything better, but, all I know is that, now, he's gone, and she cries…

**_Subject R1-9n: yesterday_**

I am sleeping, or, I least, I was… now, I'm not so sure. People come and go, some to see me, poke me, prod me and draw blood… others to do the same to the others around me… My mind is hazy, like I am coming off of a bad trip, or, maybe starting one. All I can remember is this reoccurring dream, about a woman, with the most beautiful green-blue eyes, and a wicked, secret smile….

"She seems to be responding much more positively to the treatments then the others." Someone says above me, and I hear something scraping… like pen and paper, I guess.

"Yes, I see that." Another voice replies, and suddenly I am gripped with fear. "Remind me again why we are using this, when we have a perfect subject already?"

"Because, the only reason the original succumbed to the virus was our meddling. Something about her DNA makes her naturally immune to the un-tampered with strain, and we need to know why… and how we can use it to make her – it – better." The first voice says, like he's trying to sell something over the phone. He sounds desperate, but also sure.

"Also, the 'perfect' subject… she's not exactly here to test on anymore…" And I feel my body go cold. I know it's her, I just know it…

"Don't worry, she will be soon. She's been programmed to always be able to find her way home." I have to help her, have to stop them! I hear a frantic beeping, and realize that it's my heart monitor.

"What the-" the first voice says, and I reach out blindly, hand latching onto something soft.

"Rain, stop this." The second voice says, deceptively soothing.

"NO!" I scream, even I as I feel the needle prick my skin, bringing back the trippy feeling I lost in my fear. "No… you can't… Ada… no…"

**tbc**

_**AN:** Okay, I have no idea what to say… next chapter will be less trippy, I promise… sorry about this, but, I needed to get it out of my head… yeah; I don't know what to say…Hope you enjoyed... And, see, ANOTHER UPDATE!_


	6. Separation Anxiety: Monster In Me

**Separation Anxiety; **

**Monster in Me**

**_Disclaimer:_**_ Not mine, not yours, not anyone's. You can't OWN people… oh, wait, right, they're not real…_

"Why are you doing this?" she asks, voice high pitched, desperate; I've managed to scare her, to make her mask crack. Ignoring her, I continue to shove things into my bag; clothes, packaged food, but most importantly, my weapons. One of her hands covers mine and the other shoots to my arm, gripping almost painfully. "Please Alice, stop! Why are you doing this?" she cries, and it takes all my willpower to resist turning and taking her into my arms. Why can't she just understand?

"Jill, I have to do this. Please let go." I whisper, gently prying her squeezing figures from my bicep, and turning back to my task.

"But why? Why do you have to do this? What the fuck is going on?" she demands, angry now. She steps in front of the bed, which holds my bag, and I glare at her.

"Angela," I say, keeping my voice level. "Please go play in the hallway."

"B-but, Alice, I," the girl stammers, clearly upset that there will be a fight.

"Angie, sweetie, Alice and I are just going to talk. Please, do as she says." Jill reassures. The child is not convinced.

"No! You two are going to fight again! Please, stop! No more yelling!" she shouts, covering her eyes and quickly deteriorating into tears. "Please, no more, no more." She sobs, and my heart breaks a little more. "Why can't we just be happy, just run away and hide and be happy. No more fighting." Her body shakes, her breathing erratic; she uncovers her eyes to give us watery, pleading looks, and all I want to do is agree. But, I know better; they will never stop coming. And, even if they did, we still have to worry about what **I** will become.

"Angie, darling, please. This is for the best," I try and reason, but, she cuts me off before I can finish.

"No! How can you say that? You are going to leave us all alone, going to go away and leave us behind. How is that better?" she demands, angry now. Jill goes to her, pulling her into a comforting embrace.

"Yes, Alice, tell us; how is this better?" she all but spits at me. I hold back a growl, knowing that it's not her that I am really angry at; it's me.

She's right, they're right. This whole situation is a mess. Something is happening to me, changing me from the inside out. Something that I can't understand; something **very** dangerous. And, they don't have any idea.

They don't know that sometimes, when I look at them, I am aware of the beat of their hearts, the smell of their emotions; their fear, their excitement, their sadness, even their pain. That I can pinpoint every weakness their frail human bodies have; that I can feel every change in them, from breathing to the dilation of their pupils. They don't know that I can feel, almost _taste_ the blood flowing through their veins; that I _hunger_. And, if I have anything to do with it, they will never know.

"Please, Jill, Angie… just, please. You have to trust me; this is for the best." My lover's lower lip begins to quiver, and I can see the great effort she expends to keep from bawling; it makes me adore her all the more. I am weak against her tears.

"Just tell us why." She pleads voice suddenly hollow, defeated. She clings gently to the shoulders of the girl – our girl – and trembles with the repressed urge to cry. I can almost taste her sorrow; and, for a moment, it fills me with the urge to see it, alive and wet and shinning on her cheeks, it fills me with the urge to hunt and stalk. I clench my jaw against the feelings, shoving them back down. If only that was all it took, but, I know they're still there, waiting…

"You have to trust me; I'll be back as soon as I can." I whisper against my rapidly closing throat. Why should doing the right thing be so hard?

Jill looks away suddenly, turning her head to the side and clenching her jaw. The waves of betrayal and sorrow are almost visible. "Go then," she says, and my heart skips a painful beat. Why can't she understand I don't want to do this to her, to them? "If you are going to abandon us, then do it. Just, don't expect us to wait for you. Tomorrow, I will have all of our things packed, and they day after, we will be gone." I growl, low in my throat. They are MINE! How dare she! I shake my head, to clear it of my irrational thoughts; she takes it as a negative. "We can't live like this Alice, it's too dangerous. I will do what I need to do to protect my daughter," it's a slip, and she realizes it after a moment, but, does not correct it. "If you disappear now, we will not wait for you."

It feels like I have been punched in the gut, shocking, sudden, and painful; I imagine this is what she is feeling right now, and I hate myself that much more. But, it is for the best, and, if losing them forever is what it takes to save them… It's not even a choice.

Within five minutes, my bag is packed, and I am standing in front of them. Angie looks up at me with big, teary, uncomprehending eyes. _How could you,_ they demand. I kneel before her, talking her stiff form into my arms. Within seconds, she melts into me, wailing against my neck. This child, my child – I look up at Jill, whose eyes are still closed, scrunched tightly – our child. I would give my life to protect her, them. I hold her closely, whispering my love and soothing nonsense in her ears, then gently pull back, wiping at her cheeks with the tips of my fingers. "You still my girl?" I ask softly, talking to the child, but speaking to the woman; I am vulnerable suddenly. The girl nods, unable to verbalize, and plants a sloppy, wet, tears and mucus filled kiss on my cheek. I return it on her forehead. "I love you," I whisper easily, and she returns the sentiment.

I stand, facing my lover, whose body is shaking with silent, dry sobs. "I am sorry." I say, stepping to her and cautiously touching her arms. She flinches, as if struck, and I pull away. "I-I lo-" I struggle with the words so easily given to the girl, so easily given to _me_ by the woman.

"Don't! Just, don't; I know you don't mean it; I know about Rain." She gasps out, still holding onto the last of her self-control. But, it doesn't matter, because, for a moment, my heart stops; Rain. God, Rain. Rain whom I made suffer as Jill suffers now. All for the job, always for the job. But, it's different this time, isn't it? "Just go."

But, I can't. I scowl, shaking my head as I take another step forward. Grabbing her now, I force her to me, crushing my mouth to hers for long, brutal moments.

"Angie," I purr as I break the savage kiss. "Leave us alone for a bit, okay?" I don't look to see if she has obeyed my command – for that is what it was – but, I hear the door close behind her as she leaves the tiny apartment.

"No," Jill croaks, fear and rage warring in her eyes. "No." I chuckle, a cold and empty sound. I can't fight it anymore, the urge to mark her, to own her; she is mine, and I will make sure she knows it. No matter where she goes, I will find her.

"Don't think this is something you can wish away," I say, hands moving to grab her about the hips, fingers pressed hard enough to leave bruises. "You are _mine_, and you will remember that." I growl, mouth latching onto her throat. Vaguely, before rational thought leaves me, I realize something. She is not fighting me, not truthfully – and, she tastes different… more like me… And, on the heels of that realization, there is another; she has tasted like this for a long time…

Then, my mind is gone, surrendered to the urges within me, and I hear her answering growl.

**_AN:_**_ Sorry this took so long, and that it is so short. The job has been brutal and draining lately, plus all the college crap. But, I have cut back on the job, and so I will be able to spend more time on this now. Questions, comments, flames, and unabashed praise readily accepted! Heh._


End file.
